


Missing Something

by Thevoidbetweenus



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Intrusive Thoughts, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Serious Injuries, Soulmate AU, Soulmates feel each other's pain, Stabbing, eye trauma (offscreen), hashirama is oblivious and madara is too tsun to just DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, it's all gonna end up okay but it'll have to go wrong first, main pairing is hashimada but i'm giving tobiizu a fair amount of attention do not fear, me? writing another soulmate au? it's more likely than you think, no beta we die like men, zetsu......meddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22995592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thevoidbetweenus/pseuds/Thevoidbetweenus
Summary: Madara has suspected the identity of his soulmate for years.  Hashirama is sad that everyone but he and Madara seem to have found their soulmates.Tobirama and Izuna are not, in fact, very good wing men.   Mito is trying to be a wingwoman in their stead.  It’s not until Madara’s behavior becomes...strange, that their meddling is truly warranted.Hashirama is finally catching on, at the very least.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna
Comments: 117
Kudos: 378





	1. The Establishing the World Part

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello! I have big plans for this fanfic, so who knows how long it will turn out in the end. Will it be a slowburn? Will it not? Who knows!
> 
> Thank you for clicking and reading! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (PS, just to put it out there - I'm a hardcore Uchiha sympathizer so if that's not your jam, no harm no foul c: )

Madara has suspected the identity of his soulmate since the first time Hashirama favored his left leg while they were skipping stones along the river.

An injury on a mission last night, apparently.

Yes - Madara had felt the ache of his right ankle in the wee hours of the night, and it doesn’t take a genius to start putting two and two together. 

He doesn’t mention it, instead running away from his best friend when the moron decides they should have a race.

“You should get your ankle healed,” Madara mumbles, skidding to a halt when he feels a sharp twinge in his own ankle. No more running today.

Hashirama gapes at him, stopping in his tracks so as not to run Madara over. “How did you know?”

Madara bristles, crossing his arms. “Isn’t it obvious, stupid?” he asks, kicking at the ground.

The other boy blinks once, twice. He rubs the back of his neck and laughs. “I wasn’t very subtle, was I.”

If Madara deflates, Hashirama doesn’t think much of it. “Yeah, dummy. You’re favoring your other leg when you run.”

“Don’t worry! I’ll get it fixed when I’m home.” He offers his friend a cheerful thumbs up.

Madara’s smile is sweet, evidence of earlier petulance gone for now. “Good,” he says softly, resting a hand on Hashirama’s arm. “You need to take care of yourself, Hashirama.” 

Hashirama’s cheeks heat up.

_Madara is a gift from the divine._

* * *

“Your brother is stupid,” Izuna hisses in a hushed tone.

“Yours could’ve just told the truth,” Tobirama retaliates, ignoring the sting in his own side when he elbows the other boy.

“Yeah, well, _my_ aniki doesn’t want his heart broken. _Yours_ is just oblivious and dumb,” Izuna sticks his tongue out.

“Oh yeah? I think _you’re_ dumb,” Tobirama replies, rolling his eyes. Izuna squawks indignantly.

“You’re so mean!”

“Who cares?”

With that, Izuna lunges over to tackle him. They wrestle for several minutes, hurling insults at each other, until at last Tobirama pins Izuna to the ground. 

“Stupid Uchiha,” he grumbles, glaring down at his soulmate half-heartedly.

Izuna meets his gaze with starry eyes. “When our clans are finally at peace, I’m gonna marry you,” he declares, grinning. Tobirama’s cheeks flush pink and he scowls, letting go of the other boy.

“You really are dumb.”

_And kinda cute. Just a little._

* * *

Hashirama gets headaches quite often, right behind his eyes.

He doesn’t think a whole lot of it. Shinobi get headaches, right?

And if his best friend often, and _loudly_ complains of similar headaches, well - that only confirms his theory! Clearly it really _is_ normal. 

He doesn’t think a whole lot about who could be his soulmate. He figures he’ll know when the time is right - he doesn’t need to go SEARCHING.

He shows up to the river with a pounding headache and finds Madara holding his own head in his hands.

“You okay?” Hashirama asks, an easy smile on his face. Madara shoots him a glare.

“Yeah, stupid. My head just hurts.”

“Mine too,” the Senju says, sitting next to his friend and leaning into his side. Madara’s expression is unreadable for a moment, his shoulders tensed.

“That’s kind of weird,” he says idly, pitch a fraction higher than usual. Hashirama raises a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“Tch…” Madara crosses his arms, refusing to look over at the other boy now. “Nevermind. You’re such an airhead.”

Tears well up in Hashirama’s eyes. “What did I do?”

“Just _nevermind,_ Hashirama.”

Something about Madara’s tone is unconvincing, but Hashirama doesn’t press further.

* * *

Peace comes from an unfortunate miscalculation on Tobirama’s part.

He’s always cautious when going into battle with his over-eager soulmate.

_“I don’t want anyone else to fight you because they might hurt you,” the Uchiha had murmured into his shoulder during a quiet night alone. “We’ll just declare ourselves rivals! It’s a foolproof plan.”_

Not exactly foolproof, evidently. Now Tobirama has been the one to hurt _Izuna._ Testing the new jutsu had been risky, yes, but he had expected the sharingan to be able to keep up. 

Wrong. _Of all the damn times to be wrong..._

He feels the ache as his soulmate coughs up blood, eyes wide and tomoe spinning. The quiet “...Tobirama?” is enough to shatter his pride.

The Senju drops his sword and lunges forward to catch Izuna in his arms, panic bubbling in his chest. “Izuna!” he shouts, and if most of the surrounding shinobi have stopped battling, he isn't really paying attention.

Madara has already pushed through the battlefield, skidding to a halt in front of the two. He resists the urge to start shouting (truly a rarity), instead kneeling beside them and wrapping a hand around one of his little brother’s wrists. 

“I’m not sure my proficiency in iryojutsu is enough,” Tobirama admits, compartmentalizing the fact that Izuna must have told his brother about their connection as a discussion to be had later. For now, his soulmate is at high risk of bleeding out, and staring up at him with a starry-eyed smile reminiscent of when they were children. _Stupid sappy asshole!_

“That’s a fancy new jutsu,” the younger Uchiha manages, laughing weakly. Madara scowls.

“Now is hardly the time, when he has nearly killed you with it,” he mutters, though it is without much bite. Tobirama flinches, reluctantly meeting Madara’s gaze for a moment. There is no rage, but fear of losing his last little brother.

Well. He supposes he should just be glad it’s not murderous intent held in Madara’s eyes right now.

It does not take very long for Hashirama to catch up with his own battle opponent - evidently, Madara had fled without explanation. The elder Senju brother gasps, squeezing in next to Tobirama and placing a hand on Izuna’s wound.

“Tobirama! How could you stab your soulmate?” he chastises, brows furrowed as he begins to heal Izuna’s wound. 

“I didn’t _mean_ to!” Tobirama protests, and Izuna nods sagely (evidently unfazed by Hashirama knowing). He snorts at this and takes one of his soulmate’s hands, giving it a tight squeeze. Izuna’s smile is bright despite the blood on his lips.

_Typical, love-struck, ridiculous Uchiha._

Hashirama frowns. “Have we finally had enough?” he asks, and Madara’s jaw clenches.

“Yes,” he says, shoulders slumping. He sounds exhausted. “Enough is enough.” He looks down at his younger brother, refusing to meet Hashirama’s eyes. “The Uchiha will agree to peace.”

“As will the Senju,” Hashirama confirms, relaxing slightly now that Izuna is no longer in danger. He glances at Tobirama when the latter nudges him lightly in the side.

Tobirama says nothing, instead nodding in Madara’s direction and looking pointedly at the man’s side. Izuna gives his hand a squeeze this time.

“Madara, you’re hurt too!” the elder Senju brother exclaims, eyes wide. He is already shifting his hands over, ready to help, only to be swatted away. 

“I’m fine,” the elder Uchiha brother says, shaking his head.

“I can see that you’re bleeding-”

“Only because your far-more-intelligent brother pointed it out,” Madara snaps, and Hashirama recoils.

“Why are you being so snippy?” he whines. “Even when we’re battling, you’re not like this-”

“Gee, I wonder,” is the hissed response. “Just - nevermind, you idiot. We can reconvene in a few hours to discuss peace. I need to go.” He looks down at Izuna for confirmation, then stands upon receiving an assuring nod. 

Izuna will be okay. That is the important thing.

Hashirama watches him walk away with furrowed brows. If Hashirama’s side ached, despite not taking a real hit in his battle with Madara, he did not notice it. “What’s wrong with him?” he wonders aloud.

His brother responds with an exasperated sigh. “Anija-”

He’s cut off by Izuna elbowing him in the side and glaring at him. 

“I’m missing something, aren’t I?” Hashirama asks, shoulders sinking as he pouts.

"That's an understatement," Izuna mutters, though he refuses to explain.

Even Hashirama's exasperated wail does not convince him.


	2. Tobirama is the Sappy Senju

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuna and Tobirama are sappy, and Hashirama is.....oblivious. Very oblivious.

Peace is...awkward.

It’s not exactly what Hashirama expected.

Madara is pleasantly...neutral with him. It’s not like when they were children. No teasing, no joking - only tight smiles that don’t quite reach the eyes.

From his spot across from Hashirama at his kitchen table, Madara pours his old best friend a cup of tea. “Would you like cream and sugar?” he asks.

Hashirama nods, and Madara pushes over the small basket centerpiece holding the sugar and cream dishes. “Thank you.”

“You’re quite welcome,” the Uchiha says, ever the perfectly cordial host.

It’s a bit surreal, really.

Madara’s smile is pleasant but thin. 

“So…” Hashirama begins, putting two spoons of sugar into his tea. It’s earl gray, he thinks vaguely - not his favorite, but palatable. 

“How is construction of the Academy going?” Madara asks coolly, stirring in a fourth spoon of sugar into his own cup. 

_ He does have a sweet tooth.  _ “Oh, it’s going quite well. Tobirama is quite passionate about it.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Hashirama smiles awkwardly. Madara really isn’t making this easy on him. What happened to the ease of their friendship? Had the years really eroded their personalities so much? “I take it Izuna is recovering well?”

Ah, that stirs some sort of emotion. Madara tenses, sipping his tea. “Oh, certainly,” he allows, though his eyes are narrowed. Hashirama frowns.

“You’re looking at me suspiciously,” he accuses, and Madara quirks a brow. 

“Unusually perceptive of you, Hashirama.”

Hashirama laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.  _ Is he serious?  _ “Come now, Madara! We’re at peace now! You don’t have to look at me like that.”

“You don’t have to push my buttons,” Madara counters, sipping his tea again. 

Well. Hashirama would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleased to have gotten some sort of emotion other than mild pleasant-ness. “All I did was mention Izuna!” he protests.

“Well, as I said, he’s recovering just fine,” the Uchiha says, setting his tea cup down but keeping his hands wrapped around it. His expression has softened a tad. “What did you really want to talk about, Hashirama?” 

“Well, I…” Hashirama hesitates for a moment. “I haven’t seen you in awhile,” he says. “I wanted to spend some time with you. As friends. Like when we were younger,” he explains rather lamely, trailing a finger along the rim of his teacup. 

“As friends,” Madara echoes, and Hashirama could swear there was a hint of….something, in his tone, but he just can’t place it. He crosses his arms now, watching Hashirama closely from across the table. “I see.”

Hashirama puffs his cheeks. Madara was supposed to  _ warm up  _ after that, not get even colder. “What, you don’t want to be friends anymore?” he asks, eyes wide and teary. He watches Madara’s shoulders sink, and his eyes roll.

“That’s not what I - nevermind, Hashirama. Of course I still want to be your friend, you overgrown tree,” he grumbles. “Get that sad look off your face. We’re still friends. I just wasn’t sure how you wanted to proceed.”

Hashirama brightens almost immediately, slamming his hands on the table as he stands up. “That’s such good news! Come on then, let’s go on a walk, and we can talk about all the building progress, and-”

“I’m finishing my tea first,” Madara interrupts, shaking his head. “It’s not really that exciting…”

“Of course it is, Madara! Being your friend is my favorite thing!”

The Uchiha’s smile is a bit forlorn, but Hashirama doesn’t notice.

* * *

Tobirama is not certain what to expect when he’s told that his soulmate has finally been released from bedrest.

Izuna, allowed to walk again, and not coming to tell him?

_ Kind of hurtful. _

The younger Senju brother crosses his arms, glaring at the passerby as he stalks his way through the construction site that would eventually become the shinobi academy. He knows he’s being a bit of a child about this, but he and Izuna have barely had any time together to enjoy the hard-won peace, and he’s getting  _ impatient. _

“Senju-sama!” 

He casts an irritated glance in the direction of the voice, only to find Hikaku Uchiha holding a note in his hand. “What?” he snaps, not in the mood for more badgering about god-knows-what.

“It’s from Izuna,” the other man says, smile thin as he shoves the little note in Tobirama’s direction. 

Ah. Well. Tobirama supposes the hint of guilt is not unwarranted. “I see. Thank you,” he says, graciously taking the letter. “Uchiha-san,” he adds as almost an afterthought, bowing his head for a moment before opening the note and admiring Izuna’s admittedly ugly handwriting. He vaguely recognizes Hikaku’s snort and footsteps as he walks away, but pays no mind.

_ Hi Tobi! _

_ Since I’m sure you DESPERATELY miss me, I wanted to explain why I’m not currently running into your arms. My big dumb asshole brother asked me to run an errand for him (yes, that means you have full permission to blame him), so I won’t see you for probably another week. _

_ Horrifying, I know. I’ll be missing you too, if it’s any consolation. _

_ Love you Tobi! I’ll see you when I’m back in the village. _

Tobirama allows himself to read the letter once, twice, a third time. He raises a hand to hide the smile on his lips - Izuna is an insufferable moron, but he’s  _ his  _ insufferable moron.

* * *

Tobirama is...suspicious, when he sees the light on in his kitchen window.

It’s probably just Hashirama, he reasons - no one would be stupid enough to leave the light on if they were trying to ambush him, right? He grimaces at the thought of talking to his older brother (he really just wants some time to SULK right now, if he has to be without his other half for another whole entire week), but he sucks it up and slinks into his house.

“Hashirama,” he grumbles, certain his older brother will probably hear him, “I really don’t feel like talking today.” He can’t bear to listen to the idiot drone on and  _ on  _ about Madara today.

Really, how his older brother is so oblivious is beyond him, but that is not his circus and those are not his monkeys.

The lack of answer just irritates the younger Senju brother further. He kicks off his sandals and stomps towards the kitchen, muttering under his breath about  _ stupid, oblivious older brothers,  _ cheeks puffed out as his expression morphs into something akin to  _ pouting.  _ Not that he’d ever admit that, of course.

“I sure hope you’re happier to see me than you would be to see Hashirama.”

_ Wait a minute. _

That’s not his idiot brother.

That’s his idiot soulmate.

His idiot soulmate who is currently on one knee, holding a ring with an _absurdly_ large diamond on it ( _where did he even_ _get that - nevermind, Tobirama doesn’t really want to know_ ), and offering him a cheesy smile.

Tobirama could faint, really.

“Um,” he says intelligently, knees a little wobbly as he takes a step forward.

Izuna’s smile turns a little nervous. “Not the reaction I’d hoped for,” he admits, but he perseveres. “I don’t know if you remember when I promised I’d marry you when-”

“Of course I remember,” Tobirama interrupts, some tears welling in his eyes that he hastily wipes away. “Stupid, sappy, ridiculous Uchiha.”

“I was hoping you’d become an Uchiha too,” Izuna reaches out to take one of Tobirama’s hands. “If you’ll marry me?”

Tobirama laughs, cheeks bright red as he gives his soulmate’s hand a squeeze. “Kami, my father is rolling in his grave,” he says, unable to contain his grin.

“Good! The bastard deserves it!”

Tobirama laughs again, his smile a little watery now. “The answer is yes, by the way,” he murmurs, his breath hitching a little as Izuna slides the garish ring onto his finger. “Guess I  _ am  _ becoming a sappy Uchiha.” 

Izuna is beaming as he stands up and gives his now-fiance the tightest hug possible. He reaches up to cup both of Tobirama’s cheeks, giving the other man a soft kiss on the lips. “You totally are,” he accuses.

“I missed you,” Tobirama admits quietly, sliding his arms around the other man’s waist and tugging him closer. “I’m allowed to be sappy, just this once.”

“You say, as if you haven’t always been a sap underneath your cold exterior,” Izuna says, resting his head in the crook of Tobirama’s neck as he embraces him. “For a genius, you can sure be dumb sometimes,” he teases.

“You think I’m a genius?”

“Maybe not, if you don’t know the answer already.” The Uchiha snorts, grinning into the Senju’s neck. 

He’s lived up to his promise.

* * *

“You know, pining doesn’t look very good on you, aniki,” Izuna comments from his spot on Madara’s bed, lounging like a languid cat as Madara sits at his desk, squinting to read some paperwork.

“Tch. I’m not pining,” Madara responds, voice lacking the usual bite.

He thinks that no one has noticed his recent change in behavior. He’s never been very good at subtlety, though. Something is wrong, and Izuna is determined to figure it out.

“Right, and that’s why you stare longingly at Hashirama all day.”

“I do no such thing,” is his older brother’s hissed answer. “Don’t you have things to do, brat? Like, I don’t know, bothering your own soulmate, or planning your wedding?”

“Tobi is busy,” Izuna whines, “and I wanted to talk to you!”

Madara sighs, unable to stay irritated with the little pest for long. “Well, we’re talking, but somehow I suspect we haven’t really covered what you want to.”

“Didn’t you have lunch with Hashirama the other day?”

“...Yes?” Madara narrows his eyes. So, that topic isn’t being dropped.  _ Great.  _

“Shouldn’t you, you know, be happy about that?” Izuna asks, swinging his legs back and forth as he stretches out further. 

“Oh, yes, Izuna. I’m wildly happy that Hashirama has declared us  _ friends, _ ” his brother mutters. “ _ Friends _ , Izuna! He clearly wants to ignore our soulmate bond.”

“Aniki…” Izuna frowns, carefree attitude shifting into concern. “Hey, hey. Maybe you’re reading too much into it. Are you sure he realizes?”   
  


“I don’t see how he couldn’t,” Madara says, flipping to the next page of his paperwork and skimming it. “He wants us to ignore it, which I suppose is fair. If I had someone like me as a soulmate I’d probably do the same, in his position. He could really have anyone he wants.”

Izuna puffs his cheeks. “Madara…” he says, laying on his side to shoot a glare at his brother. “You should try talking to him about it, even if you’re sure he knows. Setting that boundary for sure would probably be for the best.”

“I think he set the boundary rather clearly already.” Madara sniffs, flipping the page again. Izuna sighs.

“I just think talking to him about it is a good idea.”

“I’m busy.”

Izuna rolls his eyes. “You’re so stupid sometimes,” he says.

“Izuna, if you’re just going to insult me, can you go bother someone else?” Madara shoots him a glare. “Let me wallow in my misery in peace.”

Okay, so maybe being mean to Madara isn’t the solution. 

It was worth a shot.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” the younger brother sits up, having the decency to look a little guilty at least. “Listen, I know things seem shitty right now, Mada, but it’ll work out. I promise!”

The childhood nickname eases his tense nerves, and Madara sets the paperwork down on the desk. “Maybe,” he acquiesces. 

There’s no point in stressing Izuna out, after all, even if he doesn’t really believe it.


	3. Enter the Uzumaki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mito Uzumaki arrives, and Hashirama doesn't seem to understand that he's not her soulmate.
> 
> He takes her on a 'date' and invites his oldest friend. Third-wheeling is a lot more fun than Mito expected.
> 
> She takes it upon herself to do some investigating afterwards, though. (She kind of adopts Madara in the process. Oops.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the kudos and comments! So sorry it's taken me awhile to write this next chapter, but I hope you will enjoy it.
> 
> Wherever you may be, I hope you're staying safe during this pandemic!

Tobirama taps his foot as he leans in the doorway to his brother’s office.

Hashirama is whining again about something or other, and unfortunately he’s going to be the one to listen (the bad timing of dropping off this paperwork - he curses his luck).

“It seems like  _ everyone  _ has found their soulmate but me,” the elder Senju brother complains, glumly resting his chin in his hands. Tobirama stares at him.

_ This again.  _ Hashirama has been talking about this practically non-stop since Izuna had proposed, and Tobirama is growing...tired, to say the least. 

“You know, anija,” Tobirama begins, stepping inside to set a stack of papers on Hashirama’s desk. “Maybe they’re right in front of you, and you just don’t realize.” 

Hashirama quirks a brow. “But - but the only person it could really be is…” he scratches the top of his head as he considers. “I don’t know. It’s certainly not Touka, or any of the Uchiha…”

“It could be an Uchiha,” his brother says, averting his eyes.

He gets so tempted, sometimes, to just spell it out - but the bond between soulmates is best one discovered more organically (or at least, not unveiled by an outsider). So, he suffers in silence.  _ And trust him - he IS suffering.  _

Hashirama tilts his head and grins. “Wow! You really are changing, aren’t you otouto? To think you’d say such a thing and be okay with me having an Uchiha-”

“I’d be a hypocritical ass to judge you if that were the case,” Tobirama cuts him off, rolling his eyes. “All I’m saying is, perhaps try being more observant. You might be missing something obvious.” That’s putting it lightly, but he doesn’t want to be  _ mean.  _

“The only Uchiha we know who hasn’t found their soulmate is Madara,” Hashirama points out, and he smiles sheepishly. “And, well...Madara is my best friend! If we were soulmates, I’m sure he’d tell me.” He sighs, staring wistfully out the window. Tobirama tries to interject (for multiple reasons: one, how OBLIVIOUS can Hashirama possibly be, and two,  _ there’s a dark presence in the doorway) _ , but Hashirama soldiers on. “There’s no way Madara and I would work, anyhow. He and I just don’t seem compatible - he’s so mean, sometimes-”

“Anija…” the younger Senju tries to warn. He breathes out a sigh as he feels a strong surge of hot, angry chakra. Hashirama tilts his head, not realizing until he turns away from the window to face forward again. 

“Oh! Aha...hi, Madara.” 

Madara’s teeth are clenched into a smile. “I delivered the building plans as you requested,  _ Hokage-sama, _ ” he says, voice low. “Do let me know if you need anything.” His shoulders are raised and tensed, and his hands balled into fists as he awaits dismissal.

“Oh, Madara, you don’t need to be so formal,” Hashirama’s smile is cheerful, but even he is able to sense the uncomfortable mood (though the pointed glare from Tobirama may have helped). “Thank you for handling that...I’ll keep you informed if anything else comes up.” He drums his fingers on the desk, trying to hold Madara’s gaze until the other man breaks it.

“Hn.” Madara’s nod is stiff as he turns and storms out of the room, an angry mass of chakra threatening to boil over. Something is probably going to end up destroyed, but Tobirama decides it’s really not his problem for now.

“Do you think he heard me? Was I being rude when I said that?” Hashirama rubs his chin. “He probably did hear me, huh…and I  _ did  _ call him mean.”

The younger Senju pinches the bridge of his nose. “…I’d say it’s safe to assume he heard you.”

“He’s definitely mad at me, then,” Hashirama bemoans, burying his head in his hands. 

“How perceptive,” Tobirama mutters, trying not to show his own irritation but finding it difficult. “I’m going to go finish my work-”

“Do you know why Madara has been so mad at me recently? Outside of this, I mean - he’s been mad otherwise too!” Hashirama interrupts, voice small and pleading. His eyes are wide and a bit teary, and his brother has a hard time turning away.

“I...might have an inkling,” is his noncommittal response. “I’m sure overhearing what you said didn’t exactly help. An apology might be in order.” He’s tempted to say more, but once again refrains upon feeling another source of chakra approach. He glances behind them for a moment as Touka peers into the doorway.

“The Uzumaki clan has arrived as expected,” she announces, an odd sort of smile on her face. “The heiress - her soulmate is a Senju.”

Hashirama’s face lights up, and Tobirama gets a sinking feeling he knows where this is going. “Anija, don’t automatically assume-”

“I’ll go meet them then!” Hashirama ignores the warning, standing up from his chair and beaming. “How exciting, if my soulmate is an Uzumaki!”

Touka quirks a brow. “Hashirama-sama, I’m not certain-”

He disregards her as well as he strides out of his office, and Tobirama meets her gaze with an exasperated sigh.

“He still doesn’t realize…?” she asks, rubbing the back of her neck. He nods, running a hand through his hair.

“My brother is about to be disappointed, I will put it that way.”

* * *

  
  


“I’ll show you around the village after lunch,” Hashirama says cheerfully. “I’ve had this planned with my best friend Madara for awhile now, and I’m sure he won’t mind me bringing you. He’ll be excited to meet you!”

Privately, he’s unsure what to think of his ‘soulmate.’ Mito is a bit more...feminine, than he’d expected. He isn’t sure what he _had_ been expecting, but she is not it. He doesn’t feel a strong connection with her, either, but he figures that will probably change over time.

Mito’s smile is cool as she allows him to guide her towards the restaurant. At least he’s charming, even if he seems to have the wrong impression about  _ which  _ Senju is her soulmate. “Thank you, Hashirama-sama.”

“Oh, no need for the formalities,” He waves her off with a smile. “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other from now on, after all!”

Her nod is polite.  _ Yes, he’s certainly got the wrong idea here.  _ She follows his quick strides into the small establishment. Hashirama practically  _ runs  _ to a table near the back, and she lets out an indignant huff as she’s tugged along.

She’s not sure what she expected of Hashirama’s best friend, but the surge of furious chakra (and is that a hint of darkness?) that hits her when the Senju introduces her as “his soulmate, Mito!” is not quite it.

The chakra is coming from a man smaller than she expected from such a force. His messy mop of hair hangs partially in his eyes, and his baggy robe doesn’t hug his body where it should. He looks absolutely exhausted, his eyebags rivalling any she’s ever seen before. She tilts her head thoughtfully, starting to piece things together. “I believe there has been a misunderstanding-”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Madara grits out, interrupting her. His glare is not directed at her, she notes, but at Hashirama.  _ Ah.  _ “I am Uchiha Madara.”

Mito offers an awkward smile. “Uzumaki Mito,” she supplies. Delicately, she sinks into a chair beside the Uchiha, forcing Hashirama to sit across from his friend. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” She’ll have to correct Hashirama later, she supposes - for now, she’s going to enjoy the show.  _ What else is there to do? These two morons will just continue to talk over her. _

“I’m so happy you’re getting along!” Hashirama says, leaning back in his chair and beaming at his two companions. 

Madara crosses his arms, hunching forward to level a glare across the table. “Oh yes. Thank you so much Hashirama, really, for introducing me to your  _ soulmate.” _

The Senju evidently doesn’t pick up on the strangeness of Madara’s tone, but Mito certainly does. She looks between the two men, vowing to speak in private with the Uchiha later. For now, she simply pours herself a cup of tea from the pot provided by their antsy waiter.

“You were the first person I wanted to tell!” Hashirama says, beaming. Madara’s expression becomes unreadable.

“I see,” he says coolly. “Well, I do appreciate your...consideration.”

Hashirama blinks once, twice. “Um….right…”

“Pardon my interruption,” says Mito, stirring in a spoonful of sugar into her tea and smiling. “I just was wondering how you two met. You’ve clearly known each other for quite some time.”  _ Sure, she’s heard rumors, but it’s far more fun to hear from the horse’s mouth. Perhaps this ‘date’ (in which SHE is the third wheel, really) is worth it simply for the show. _

Madara looks in her direction and he raises a brow. It seems he recognizes that she is stirring the metaphorical pot - but he leans back in his chair and rubs his chin. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” he says, a hint of a smile on his face.

She takes it as a sign of acceptance (though Hashirama does not seem to be catching on to the silent conversation). “It’s a good thing we have some time, then,” she replies idly, taking a sip of her tea. “Don’t keep me waiting, this does sound like an  _ excellent  _ tale.”

“I’m glad I’m here to tell it to you,” Madara scoffs, and Hashirama crosses his arms as he pouts. “This overgrown tree never tells it right.”

“That’s not true! You just don’t like admitting that you didn’t get the stone across the river that time-”

“Oi, you shut up! See, you always add in tiny details that don’t even matter!” the Uchiha puffs his cheeks out. “What matters is that we met when you  _ snuck up on me  _ while I was out skipping rocks in peace!”

Hashirama laughs. “Still caught up on that! Honestly, Madara, I don’t know how you survive with that paranoia about people behind you!”

“Tch...at least I show actual caution, unlike  _ some  _ people I know,” he grumbles, though Mito can tell it’s with less bite than anything else he’s said to Hashirama thus far. “That’s how we met, anyway. We’re childhood friends.”

“I get the sense there’s something more to it,” she says, and Hashirama nods.

“Yeah! Well - eventually our fathers found out we were friends and we ended up having to fight for awhile-”

“That was when my sharingan activated,” Madara adds, looking away. “The day I realized Hashirama was a Senju.”

This gives the woman pause. It seems her summation is correct after all - it is  _ Madara  _ who is Hashirama’s soulmate. So why this strange display?  _ She’ll DEFINITELY have to talk to the Uchiha later, without the Senju’s interference. _

“Yeah, that wasn’t exactly a fun way to realize you were an Uchiha,” Hashirama mumbles, lips forming a pout again. “I suppose the rest doesn’t really matter-”

“Tch, Hashirama, always skipping out on important things,” Madara chastises, causing the other man to sputter.

“But- but you just told me to stop adding unimportant details!”

“Key word being  _ unimportant,  _ stupid,” the Uchiha rolls his eyes and sags into his chair again. “When we were children, we vowed to create a village that would bring peace to both our clans, so that kids did not have to fight and die anymore. That was our dream. Yet…” his expression shifts as he frowns. “Once we both became clanheads, we battled each other for years. We had our chance, but we did not strive for peace. In the end we both lost people - siblings included.” He stares down at the table. “It’s thanks to our younger brothers that peace was possible, really.”

“Oh?”  _ This story alone is worth the outing. _

“He’s right. See, Tobirama and Izuna are soulmates,” Hashirama explains. “So, when Tobirama accidentally stabbed him-”

“Oh, I hardly think it was that  _ accidental. _ He just miscalculated his own strength and almost killed Izuna,” Madara butts in again, rolling his eyes, “the moron. But at least it led to peace negotiations.”

“So harsh,” Hashirama whines. “Tobi really didn’t mean to-”

“I think I understand better now,” Mito says, interrupting again. “Thank you for sharing that with me. Can I hear more?” she asks. “About your dream, perhaps? You two are…quite entertaining.”

Madara sputters a bit, but Hashirama laughs and reaches across the table to gently rest a hand over his. “Sure! We’d love to. Madara was a very cute kid, you know.” He beams at the memory. “His hair was a lot shorter back then!”

Madara’s eyes bug out a bit as he stares down at their hands, then glances at Mito. He smiles apologetically at her, but she just chuckles and covers her mouth with one hand. “Well, Hashirama,” the Uchiha says, smirking now despite the blush painting his cheeks, “you were an obnoxious child. And that bowl-cut! What on earth were you thinking, walking around like that?”

“So mean!” Hashirama complains, hanging his head. “Though I will admit the bowl-cut wasn’t the best fashion choice…”

They continue like that through their luncheon, the bond of friendship extended comfortably to Mito.

* * *

“Uchiha-sama,” Mito calls from her spot outside of the Hokage Tower. Madara jumps, turning in her direction.

She’d just escaped from Hashirama after letting him down as gently as possible (so not all that gently. He’s probably crying right now, but that’s not her problem). She approaches the Uchiha and says, “keep walking,” as she falls into step beside him.

“Hello again, Uzumaki-sama,” he greets, quirking a brow at her. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“You are Hashirama’s soulmate,” she says, and he crosses his arms.

“Is my pining so obvious?”

“I simply watched.” She offers a smile, and his irritation seems to fade at least a bit.

“...That is why I was so pissed off, when he introduced you to me. It was nothing personal, and I hope I did not offend,” Madara mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck. “I enjoyed dining with you.”

“Don’t worry,” Mito’s smile softens. “I realized early on your issue was with him, not me. May I ask you another question?”

He considers. “Sure.”

“Is he aware of your soulmate bond?”

“I think he is,” his shoulders sink and he stares down at the ground as they walk. He doesn’t really have a destination in mind, not that he thinks she will have an issue with that anyway. “So I’m not sure what he’s playing at, trying to pretend someone else is his soulmate…”

She frowns. She’s not certain what it is about Madara that has evoked her sympathy, but he has. “I see,” she says, voice quiet as she rubs her chin. “Well, Uchiha-sama, I’m sorry your soulmate appears to be quite an idiot. He’s a fool to reject you.”

His expression darkens, and she senses the same strange hint in his chakra that she had earlier. “You don’t know that. He’s probably correct to reject me, honestly. He said it himself, though he did not intend for me to hear...I am mean, and unpleasant.” He digs his fingernails into his skin through the fabric of his robe. “I can hardly blame him for wishing you were his soulmate and not me.”

Mito stops walking, placing her hands over Madara’s to stop him from hurting himself. “Madara-sama, I think perhaps you aren’t giving yourself enough credit. I found you to be pleasant, if not a bit prickly, during our outing.”

Madara stares at her, the strange aura in his chakra dissipating. “I appreciate that,” he says, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not sure I can really agree, but I won’t argue either.” 

She lets go of his hands and smiles. “I suppose that will suffice, for now. Next time I won’t let you get off so easily, Madara-sama.” 

He offers her a smile, laughing. “Until then, I live in fear,” he teases back, and she laughs as well.

“Would you like to get lunch tomorrow?” she asks. “Without Hashirama this time?”

“That sounds nice. Sure, I’ll accompany you.”

“I will see you then, in that case. Same place, same time?” At his affirmative nod, she gives him a wave before walking away, leaving Madara to his thoughts.


	4. Zetsu's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izuna schemes. So doesTobirama, and so does Zetsu, and so does Madara, and so does Mito.
> 
> The only one here not scheming is Hashirama. His head is empty, there are no thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long guys! I've been struggling a bit with motivation and ideas, so apologies if my updates remain sporadic. This chapter has Tobirama and Izuna again - sorry for the period without them there.
> 
> Thanks for all the lovely feedback, and I hope you and your family are safe!

“My brother is acting weird,” Izuna announces from his spot lounging on Tobirama’s bed, swinging his legs as he lays on his stomach. 

“That’s hardly unusual,” is Tobirama’s dry response. He’s sitting at his desk, though he sets his pen down now that his soulmate is talking to him. Izuna requires _full_ attention, especially when he’s gossiping, or worse - scheming. 

“Yeah, yeah - I know that, but more than he normally does,” the Uchiha grumbles, floppings onto his back to stare at the ceiling. “He keeps leaving the village and spending time out in the woods. Every time he comes back he’s in an even fouler mood than before, and nothing I say seems to help.” He purses his lips, though he’s _certainly_ not pouting. “I don’t like it.”

“So what you’re saying is we need to follow him and find out what he’s up to?”

“That might be the solution,” Izuna rubs his chin. “If he finds out someone is spying on him he’ll get pissy though, and I really don’t want to deal with that. Maybe someone should try talking to him?”

Tobirama sighs, running a hand through his hair. He doesn’t like the sound of that, not one bit. “You want _me_ to try to talk to your brother?”

“Don’t be silly! I would never entrust such a delicate operation to you,” Izuna flashes him an impish grin. “I think you should ask Mito to talk to my brother!”

“In that case, dearest,” Tobirama says, teeth flashing in what a fool might call a smile. “Why don’t _you_ ask Mito?”

“What, are you scared of her?” the Uchiha sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and leaning forward, palms pressed against the comforter. “Because it sounds like you’re scared of her, to me.” 

_Manipulative little shit_. How is Tobirama supposed to back down now?

“Don’t be stupid. Mito does _not_ scare me.”

“Prove it.”

Tobirama groans, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. You win. I’ll talk to Mito, and ask her to talk to your brother. But you owe me, especially since this plan is convoluted and stupid. _You_ could just talk to Madara, and I’m sure you’d make more headway than her-”

“No way! _Me_ talk to that lunatic?! It would end in utter disaster, Tobirama! The biggest cataclysm in shinobi history!” Izuna throws his hands in the air dramatically. “I could _never_ sacrifice our world to sate my curiosity.”

“You’re the most ridiculous man on the planet, Izuna.”

“I know!”

“You seriously owe me.”

Izuna smirks. “Come here then, I’ll pay you back.”

He eyes his fiance suspiciously. “I have paperwork to finish-”

“Oh come on,” Izuna whines, “that can wait! I want to return the favor preemptively so you don’t get tempted to ‘forget.’”

Well. He’d seen through Tobirama pretty easily this time. Tobirama snorts, standing up from his desk chair to sink onto the bed beside his partner. “Alright,” he relents. “You caught me.”

Izuna laughs, snaking his arms around Tobirama’s waist and tugging him close to steal a kiss. “I know,” he murmurs, leaning down to give his neck a little kiss this time. “I’ve gotten pretty good at reading you.”

“A fact I lament every day,” he teases, tilting his head to the side to allow his soulmate easier access.

“You like it,” Izuna replies, lifting his head to look the other man in the eyes. His own swirl into the red of his sharingan, tomoe spinning lazily. To his delight Tobirama does not flinch or look away, and he’s treated to a saved memory of his fiance smiling sweetly. 

“Maybe,” Tobirama allows, cupping one of Izuna’s cheeks in the palm of his hand. Izuna laughs, leaning into his touch.

“Sap,” he accuses, and Tobirama’s smile just widens.

* * *

  
  


“Lord Madara, you’re not doing very well with our plan.”

Madara frowns, beginning his daily pace around the small cave that harbours the creature Zetsu - the one who says he should leave the village, betray Hashirama - because the Uchiha could have better. Supposedly. “There have been complications.” 

His resolve is wavering. Zetsu isn’t having it.

It’s been carefully cultivating him for months now - it can’t fail now. Not when Mother’s return will be assured by him. The human is at last breaking. For all his bluster, Uchiha Madara has proven easy to break.

“Your weakness does not count as a complication,” the creature hisses, walking behind the man and sneering. “If you turn out to be a failure, I’ll just talk to your younger brother. Izuna is his name, yes? You wouldn’t like that, would you?”

Madara’s shoulders tense. “Stay away from him,” he warns. Zetsu is pushing his buttons today. _Great._

“Then don’t fail me. You don’t want to be responsible for Izuna’s unhappiness, do you? You know he’ll have a much harder time having to decide that helping the Uchiha is better than being with his soulmate. They may even have to _separate._ But you - you’re already unwanted. It is easy for you to see the truth.”

“Just stay away from Izuna.” He stops in his tracks, and Zetsu bumps into his shoulder. _It’s following far too close for comfort._ “I...don’t care what you do or say to me, since it’s the truth, but don’t fill his ears with garbage. _I_ will save my clan - he doesn’t need to be involved in this part of it. He can simply reap the benefits.” _Izuna might actually do it._

Zetsu’s smile is deceptively amicable. “It’s almost time for you to leave the village, then. Otherwise I fear you won’t be able to continue with the plan.” He needs to be separated from his those who might catch on - his soulmate, and that meddling Uzumaki woman. It cannot allow Madara to remain close to them, lest they intervene.

Madara shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I need to leave at all,” he says. “I’m perfectly capable of self-isolating to the point where the plan won’t go awry. I’ll be able to challenge Hashirama soon.” Zetsu’s eyes narrow.

“I thought we agreed you would need assistance challenging him, Lord Madara-”

“I changed my mind. I don’t need help,” he says firmly. 

_Help_ would ruin his own plans.

He’s certain Hashirama can defeat him in this state, and probably even kill him. _Help_ throws a potential wrench in that plan. Not that Hashirama isn’t capable, of course - but Kami forbid he end up hurting Hashirama. _No. That isn’t the point of this. The point is to alleviate Hashirama’s burden, not hurt him._

Zetsu eyes him suspiciously. “Lord Madara, I’m not certain you’re strong enough. All you have is your eyes, and those are expendable. You’re only more useful than your brother because you have developed your mangekyou. I think-”

“Stop speaking of him,” Madara snaps, his fingers clenching into fists. “I am perfectly capable of doing this by myself. I don’t need anyone’s help - not yours, not anyone’s. I’m the only one who can challenge Hashirama. That is why you are here with _me,_ and not Izuna from the start.” 

“Very well, Lord Madara,” Zetsu acquiesces. It seems the buffoon isn’t willing to budge - very well. Even if Madara ends up failing, the plan can be salvaged.

Something about the determination in the man’s eyes tells the creature he won’t fail.

* * *

Mito had not anticipated that friendship with Madara equated to friendship with Uchiha Izuna, which equated to friendship with Senju Tobirama, which put her right back to being friends with Senju Hashirama.

The prospect does not exactly...delight her. Hashirama has been kind enough to offer her sanctuary in Konoha, and certainly she is grateful, but the strange display he put on, pretending to believe she was his soulmate - well, it has left a somewhat bitter taste in her mouth.

Then again, Madara could have jumped to conclusions when determining Hashirama is aware of their soul bond. Though she’s known her prickly friend a short time, that seems to be the usual for him. He assumes a _lot_ , and often to his own detriment. 

She’s uncertain how she feels, therefore, when Hashirama frantically knocks on her front door. “Mito-san, I need your help!” Are those tears real, or crocodile? She figures the latter, given how loud he’s crying. 

Her first instinct is to ignore him, and let him find someone he’s closer to, but a larger part of her tells her to hear him out.

At the very least, it will be some _fun_ gossip to share with Touka. She pads her way to the door and opens it, finding Hashirama looking at her with rather ridiculous puppy-dog eyes, watering and everything. “Oh? What could our illustrious Hokage-sama need _my_ help for?” she asks, stepping aside to allow him entry. “Feel free to sit.”

“Well - you - you’re friends with Madara, yes?” Hashirama asks, entering her home and sitting down on the floor. Not exactly what she’d had in mind when she’d invited him to sit - she can’t help but cover her lips to hide a laugh. _He certainly is a strange one._

“Yes, Madara and I are friends,” she says. “But I do believe if you’re looking for a friend of Madara’s, you are his _best_ friend.”

Hashirama sighs and throws his head back. “I know,” he complains, voice threatening to turn into a whine. “But he’s been acting so strangely lately! I was actually wondering if he’d…” he hesitates for a moment, cheeks flushing. “If he’d talked to you about knowing who his soulmate is? He hasn’t talked to me about his at ALL…”

“Have you found yours?” Mito asks, ignoring most of what he’d said for now. There’s a lot to unpack in that suitcase, after all.

“What-” he cuts himself off and rubs the back of his neck. “I would have thought it pretty obvious to you especially that I haven’t,” he points out, a sheepish smile on his face. “Though I fail to see how that’s relevant.”

“It’s not,” she tells him mildly, though she _absolutely_ tucks that information away for a later date. It seems Madara has indeed jumped to conclusions again - but finding him to talk to him would be difficult, and convincing him that Hashirama doesn’t know is an even more difficult matter. “To answer your question, Madara has briefly mentioned that his soulmate seems to have rejected him. Perhaps that’s why he’s been so distant.” She attempts to remain vague, and tacks on a lie for good measure: “He certainly has not told me their identity.”

Hashirama rubs his chin. “...But who on earth would reject Madara?” he asks, sounding genuinely incredulous. Mito has to resist the urge to shout _YOU, APPARENTLY,_ and instead offers a thin smile.

“Who indeed?”

He frowns, tilting his head. “You know more than you’re saying,” he accuses, and she puts on her best ‘innocent’ face.

“Why, are you insinuating that _I_ , humble guest of the Hidden Leaf, would lie to my _esteemed_ Hokage?”

Hashirama raises his hands in surrender. “Certainly not, Mito-san! My apologies, I didn’t intend to offend. I’m just...starting to get worried about Madara, and I know how important soul bonds are to the Uchiha, so I figured I’d ask you...he seems closer with you than me, anymore.”

She reaches down to gently pat his shoulder before at last taking a seat on one of her couches. “I wouldn’t take offense, Hashirama-sama. I make for excellent company, and don’t only want to talk about how building is progressing. Madara must find it refreshing.”

_She is wily, this one. He can see why Madara would enjoy spending time with her._ He laughs. “I’ll have to diversify my conversation subjects, I suppose,” he muses. “If you notice anything strange with him, please let me know. I really am starting to get concerned. There’s times when I reach out to search for his chakra and simply...cannot find it.”

“Mm,” Mito nods, folding her hands in her lap. Though Hashirama is not always the most observant (an understatement, really), at least he’s noticed that as well. “I will try to investigate for you, Hashirama-sama. Though - you’re not the first to request that of me. I think you would all be better served trying to talk to the man yourselves.” As if sensing his next question, she raises a finger to her lips and smiles. “Ah, ah. A lady never tells her secrets. I’m sure you can guess who else is concerned, so figure it out yourself.”

Hashirama sighs dramatically, tears welling in his eyes. “So mean!” he complains, and she snorts.

“If you’re going to fake cry in my living room, I would request you exit my home and fake cry in your office instead. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of paperwork to attend to.”

“Paperwork…” he groans, but hauls himself up. “I should do that, before Tobirama kills me. Thank you for your assistance, Mito-san...your information was most invaluable.” He smiles at her, giving a small bow, before exiting her home in nearly the same whirlwind as when he had entered.

  
Mito watches him leave, twiddling her thumbs. Informing Madara of this is going to take a _lot_ of consideration.


	5. Sixty Seconds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama can't figure out why he's staring at Madara so much.
> 
> Madara is having...a time.
> 
> Mito is NOT above threats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken me so long to get an update out again...hopefully, after these last two weeks of classes, I'll be able to update more often.
> 
> Thank you everyone for your kind comments and thoughts, it's been helping me get through losing my final semester of college to this insanity. So while obviously this is just a silly fanfiction, I just wanted to extend my gratitude <3
> 
> Also: small trigger warning for intrusive thoughts for this chapter. I based them off of my own, so my apologies if you find it not to be realistic ^^;

“You’re staring again.”

Hashirama snaps out of his reverie, brows furrowing. He finds Madara looking at him with crossed arms and a raised brow. Sheepishly, he smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, Madara!”

He’s been caught staring a lot lately. This is the second time this morning. 

He can’t seem to help himself, lately. 

“Yeah, yeah, dumbass,” the Uchiha rolls his eyes. “Did you invite me up here to stare at me all morning, or to talk?”

Hashirama returns his gaze to the rooftops of Konoha. Why _did_ he invite Madara to the mountain? Was it another vain attempt to recapture the easy friendship of their childhood? He ponders for a moment. No. He just...enjoys Madara’s company.

Ah.

He finds his cheeks heating up a bit at the revelation, which is weird, because really who _doesn’t_ enjoy spending time with their friends? He can practically _hear_ Toka telling him he’s an idiot for thinking otherwise. _Surely it’s nothing more than just enjoying a friend’s company…_

Hashirama finds his mouth dry as he says, “well, I suppose to talk.”

“You ‘suppose’?” Madara snorts and shakes his head. “Hashirama, what’s really on your mind?”

The Senju almost blurts out “you,” but catches himself at the last minute. _This is bad._ “Well, I…” he runs a hand through his hair, unsure how to respond. “I’ve just been having inappropriate thoughts about someone close to me,” he settles on. Not his most subtle, but he’s pretty sure Madara won’t pick up on who it is anyway.

The Uchiha sputters. “ _Really,_ Hashirama, _I’m_ the one you chose to talk to this about?” he makes a face. “Just tell me it’s not Mito - she’s got her soulmate, and she doesn’t much like you anyway.”

“She still doesn’t like me?” Hashirama bemoans, throwing his head back. “I’ve tried so hard though!”

“That wasn’t even the important part of what I said!” Madara elbows the other man in the side, perhaps a bit harsher than necessary. “Why are you telling _me?_ ”

Something about his tone almost gives Hashirama pause - is he missing something here? He shakes off the thought. He may not be subtle, but Madara _definitely_ isn’t. “Why wouldn’t I tell you?” he asks, meeting Madara’s eyes. 

Have Madara’s eyes always been so...pretty? He could stare for hours. Those _eyelashes.._

“HASHIRAMA!”

This, paired with the snapping of fingers in front of his face, snaps Hashirama back into reality. “You did it again, moron,” Madara glares at him. “The fuck is wrong with you, hm? You’re acting weird.”

“You know, Madara, I’d venture to say you’re the one who has been acting weird lately,” is Hashirama’s expert deflection. “You’ve been avoiding people! I half expected you to decline my invitation!”

Madara grits his teeth, eye twitching. “You’re just avoiding the question,” he grumbles. “I’m _fine,_ Hashirama. You know I’m not a people person. My headaches have been bad, so I just stay away from _walking_ headaches like you.”

“Mean,” the Senju complains. Headaches, hm? Come to think of it, his own have been rather painful lately as well. “I suppose that makes sense,” he admits. “Sorry if I offended you by commenting on it, I was just…” his cheeks flush again. “Worried.” 

If Madara notices the blushing, he doesn’t comment. “Yeah, well, stop it. I don’t need you worrying about me. Try getting some more paperwork done instead of wasting your time on me.”

Hashirama’s brow furrows. “What?”

“I’m leaving,” Madara announces, turning away from the cliffside. “Don’t expect me to come on another walk with you if you’re just going to...to be like this, fuckhead!”

“Like _what?”_ the Hokage asks, dumbfounded. What had caused this 180? “Madara, what’d I do?!”

Madara doesn’t deign to respond, storming away. Hashirama watches him leave, scratching his head.

He doesn’t know who’s being weirder - Madara, or himself.

* * *

_What is Hashirama playing at?_

Madara enters his home like a hurricane. Sure, he might be a katon specialist, but his true chakra nature _does_ shine through at times like this. He buries his hands in his hair, digging his nails into his scalp as he kneels on the ground of his living room. Pillows are whipped up from the couch as the curtains billow. 

“Fucking bastard,” he spits out, not sure who he’s talking to at this point.

‘ _I’ve just been having inappropriate thoughts about someone close to me.’ What is that even supposed to mean?! Why is he mocking me like this? I didn’t take him for having a cruel streak, but -_

_Well, maybe this will be easier than I thought._

He ignores the mess he’s created, trying to dampen his chakra output instead. It wouldn’t do to alert Izuna right now. The little brat has already been suspicious of him lately, and he can’t risk his little brother getting involved.

He lowers his hands from his head, opting to dig his nails into his palms instead as he stands. _Calm down._

At least he’s alone. Blissfully alone. He sighs, relaxing his shoulders and hands. _Think happy thoughts._

Mindlessly, he picks his pillows off of the ground, setting them back on the couch. His thoughts drift to long brown hair, silky to the touch. As he straightens out the curtains, to effortless smiles and loud laughter.

Fuck. That’s not what he wanted. He groans, shuffling his way to the kitchen to heat a kettle of water. Maybe some tea will make him feel better.

_Maybe I should just kill him after all_ pops into his head briefly, and Madara drops the teacup he’d been holding, stunned that such a thing would even occur to him. The glass shatters, and he curses loudly before turning the heat off of his stove. Nevermind the tea. Now he's got _another_ mess to clean up, and a lot to think about.

_This is why I have to have him destroy me. I’m dangerous. Even if he were to return my feelings, I would ruin him._

He rubs his temples. This wasn’t the afternoon he had in mind. Wearily, he kneels down picking up as many shards as he can. 

He’s tired. So tired.

* * *

Mito taps her foot impatiently outside of Madara’s front door. The incorrigible man has not ventured outside of his house in four days now, and she’s determined to fish him out of there.

“Uchiha Madara, if you do not come and let me into your home in sixty seconds, I am going to break down your door and drag you out by force if necessary!”

She’d be lying if she said the scrambling from inside didn’t give her a sense of satisfaction. The door creaks open a few moments later, and Madara peeks out. “Leave me alone,” he snaps, though there is little true bite.

“Darling, you look positively _abysmal,_ ” she comments, breezing her way past him and into the living room. “Have you gotten _any_ sleep lately?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing all day?” he replies, giving up and closing the door behind her. One uninvited guest is enough, thank you.

“The bags under your eyes certainly tell a different story.” Mito drapes herself on the sofa, her smile sickeningly sweet. “Darling, people are starting to worry.”

“Tch, they should stop wasting their time,” he mutters, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall rather than sit next to her. “I prefer to be left alone. You know that.”

“Do you, though?” she asks, noting his flinch. “What’s really going on, Madara? Would you like to talk about it?”

“Don’t patronize me, Mito,” he says, and she snorts.

“I would never.”

“I’m just...tired,” he says, changing tactics. She raises a brow.

“I can imagine, but I don't think that’s the core of the problem here,” she says. 

“I haven’t gotten the chance to sleep much lately,” he elaborates, hesitating for a moment. “...I’ve been having nightmares.”

Mito tilts her head. “Oh? Well, that’s fairly common - not to say that I don’t empathize, but perhaps it’s something you need to ride out.”

“I kill Hashirama in them,” Madara continues, staring at the ground with a distant expression. “Though on occasion he kills me. I prefer those ones.”

Her brows furrow. “Madara…”

“It’s what they mean that concerns me,” he says, chewing on his lip. “I couldn’t bear to hurt him...so why am I having these dreams?” he looks genuinely distressed, and Mito stands up, going to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“These dreams aren’t reality,” she reminds him softly, squeezing his shoulder gently. “I know you. You would never hurt Hashirama,” she says.

“I can’t be sure of that,” he says, shaking his head. “It feels like there’s - there’s...something else in my head, telling me…” his eyes go wide as he catches himself. “Nevermind. It’s nothing. I’m sorry I even mentioned it. I’m fine, Mito - please, don’t concern yourself with me. I hate to be a bother.”

Mito purses her lips, lowering her hand back to her side. And she’d been so close to a breakthrough, too - now Madara will just shut her out again. “You’re never a bother, darling. Why don’t we go get some ramen together?” she suggests. “It’s not good to stay cooped up in your house so much. People miss you.”

“Tch, I doubt that,” he grumbles, though he offers a nod. “I suppose ramen sounds pleasant...and I have missed your company,” he admits, cheeks a bit pink. “Not - not that I really missed _you_ per say, so much as I missed _anyone’s_ company!”

“Oh shush, you blustery idiot,” she chastises gently, whacking him lightly on the head with her folded up fan. “It’s hardly a crime to let someone know you care about them. You should try it some time.”

“Ow!” he complains, puffing his cheeks out. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t need another lecture you know. Since when did you become worse than my hellion of a brother?”

“Probably since he and I became friends,” she says, laughing. He groans.

“That explains a lot.”

  
She may not have gotten to the root of Madara’s problems, but Mito _does_ feel better now that she’s managed to wrangle him out of the house.


	6. The Part Where it All Goes Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madara gives Izuna a painting, Mito a hairbrush, and Hashirama the most special thing of all - his cat. 
> 
> Izuna and Tobirama have a bit of a tiff. 
> 
> Hashirama finally realizes something is off here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this taking awhile! I've officially graduated and finished my Naruto Rarepair Week projects so we're back to a hopefully-more-regular update schedule.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“Izuna,” Madara calls, shifting impatiently on his feet outside of his little brother’s door. “Come on, I can’t get the door myself!”

“Why on earth not?” Izuna grouches as he hauls himself up from his couch. “Come on, aniki, I was just laying down for a nap…” he sighs dramatically and shuffles over to the door, opening it to find Madara standing there with a _painting_ of all things in his arms.

Izuna knows that painting. It’s the only family portrait Madara has left - one of his most prized possessions, in fact. It has their younger brothers, their mother - faces otherwise lost to memory.

“I brought it for you,” Madara says, not taking no for an answer as he brushes past his younger brother and leans it against one of the living room walls.

“But - that’s...that’s your favorite, isn’t it?” Izuna frowns. “What brought this on, aniki? Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because I thought you might want it. I have no need for it anymore. I’m trying to clear out my house.”

“ _Why?”_ Izuna crosses his arms. He knows his brother is a minimalist, but he’s brought over two vases, a teapot, a lamp, a dresser, and now this painting - it’s getting beyond downsizing.

“I’m thinking of getting a smaller house,” is his brother’s quiet answer. Izuna frowns, eyes narrowed.

“Madara…”

Madara opens his mouth to speak, but clamps it shut as his chakra swirls, contracting around the man. Something...dark creeps, almost behind him. It’s at the edge of his chakra signature, but if the younger Uchiha can focus just enough, maybe he can get a better idea of its origin. Closer, he just has to get closer.

Izuna’s head jerks and he steps forward, reaching out to catch his brother by the arm. “What’s _wrong_?” he asks, voice small. The darkness worming its way into Madara’s chakra dissipates, and the older man closes his eyes.

“It’s nothing,” he whispers. “I’m sorry, Izuna, I really ought to be going-”

“I felt something odd with your chakra just now. What’s going on?” Izuna demands, but Madara shakes free of his grip and turns away. _Shit._

“Nothing, otouto. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Madara says, not even glancing at his younger brother again before leaving. Izuna watches him leave, puzzled by the experience.

Could it have been an external force? Had he been wrong in scaring it away?

_How can he figure this out now?_

* * *

“I didn’t want to give you two much credit,” Mito says from her spot at Tobirama’s dining room table, across from said Senju and his fiance, “but I think you might be right about something being wrong with Madara.”

“Of course I’m right!” Izuna rolls his eyes and rests his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow resting on the table. “It’s subtle, but it’s there. I know him better than anyone, obviously I noticed.”

Tobirama elbows his fiance in the side. He really does not want to deal with Mito’s ire, and Izuna is sure to gain it at this point. To his surprise, Mito just nods, looking weary.

“The real question is - what do we do?” she asks.

Izuna drums his fingers on the table. “I really don’t know what to do,” he admits. “Usually Madara tells me everything but he’s been so closed off lately.” He sighs, shoulders drooping. “I had the strangest interaction with him the other day.”

Mito raises a brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. He dropped off his _favorite_ painting and told me he was thinking about moving, then I tried to prod and he got this weird expression and then he just _left_ . Aniki never brushes me off like that,” the Uchiha puffs his cheeks. “He keeps giving me this stuff from his house that I know he loves, so his story doesn’t really add up. Aren’t you supposed to _keep_ the stuff you love when you downsize and get rid of the rest?”

“It sounds like he’s planning on leaving,” Tobirama says, rubbing his chin. “Why else would he have given us his cat, too?”

“It sounds like he’s planning to do more than leave,” Mito says, and Izuna blanches. 

“He wouldn’t! No way. He’s not going to betray the village. He loves it here. He’d _never_ try to ruin Hashirama’s dream. He’s not like that-”

She tilts her head - it hadn’t been what she meant, but she’d rather not linger on that worrying thought anyway. She’s about to speak, but Tobirama does before she gets the chance. “I don’t know, Izuna. Something about your brother’s chakra is so odd- he gets these waves of killing intent and so often they’re directed at my brother. Are you sure a soul bond would really stop him from trying to destroy Konoha if he got it into his head?”

Mito grimaces, but if either of them has noticed, they ignore it. 

Izuna shoots his fiance a glare. “Shut the hell up,” he snaps. “I know for a _fact_ a soul bond would stop him from doing that, even if he’s been rejected-” he pauses. “You’ve felt the presence at the edge of his chakra too?”

Mito frowns. “Now that you say that, it does seem like an external presence…” she muses, and Izuna purses his lips. She’d thought perhaps she’d been imagining things, but that does seem to make sense. She considers mentioning Madara’s odd confession last time she dragged him out of the house, but Izuna’s words distract her from that train of thought.

“I only just felt it the last time I talked to him! You two have known about it and haven’t told me?!” he whines. “It’s obviously important, because I know Madara and he’d _never_ want to hurt his soulmate.” He sighs. “It’s been hard on him, of course, but that doesn’t mean he would hurt Hashirama.”

Tobirama has the decency to look embarrassed. “I’ve felt it for months now, I just...thought it was normal,” he mumbles, shifting in his chair. “You know, the whole...evil Uchiha thing…” he refuses to meet Izuna’s eyes, and his fiance grits his teeth.

“You should have said something sooner,” Izuna hisses, crossing his arms and glaring at the floor, now. “Both of you. probably, but really Tobirama? ‘Evil Uchiha’ thing? The expert fucking sensor can’t tell something is wrong?” His sharingan almost spin to life, but he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, barely catching them. He takes a deep breath, trying not to shout. “Guess I’m evil too then?” He asks, voice quiet. “Is this why you keep bringing up me becoming a Senju?”

Tobirama sputters in the face of so many difficult questions. “No! I just thought it might be an option we hadn’t considered yet-” he cuts himself off, recognizing how lame that excuse sounds. 

The Uchiha stands, lower lip quivering. “Oh, fuck off,” he mutters. “I’ll help my brother on my own then - or maybe I’ll magically turn evil too because of my clan, and he and I will take over the world together!” He clenches his hands into fists, whole body trembling now.

Mito is tempted to try to settle this argument down, but she says nothing, instead wondering how she always ends up in the middle of these situations. Besides, she’s not their therapist, and she’s fairly certain nothing she could say could amend this anyway.

Her instinct is that this is a conversation that has been festering for awhile. The timing is unfortunate, but it’s not her place to interfere. 

“Izuna, you’re different!” Tobirama protests, standing as well. He tries to reach out to the other man, but Izuna sneers and slaps his hand away.

“Right. Because I’m the only Uchiha you can tolerate.” He lets out a ‘tch’ and says, “don’t follow me” before storming out of the house. Tobirama withers, slumping back into his chair and rubbing his temples.

“Great,” he mutters. “What now?”

Mito stands, flicking her fan open and covering her mouth with it. “Now I go to enjoy a nice dinner with my soulmate,” she replies. “We can revisit this topic once tempers have cooled.” He looks at her helplessly, and she rolls her eyes. “Come now, Tobirama. You’ve got a big brain, use it for once. I’m not going to hold your hand.” She breezes out of the house as well, leaving Tobirama alone with his thoughts.

* * *

“I have something for you,” Madara says, setting his teacup town on the coffee table and offering Mito a small smile from his seat beside her on his living room sofa.

Mito raises a brow. “That’s unexpected! Madara, you really don’t have to give me any gifts, you know…” she says, trying to ignore the pit forming in her stomach. She hadn’t voiced her true concerns to Izuna in fear that it would make the young man have a complete meltdown alongside his domestic dispute, but she’s wondering if that’s truly a wise idea.

“I insist,” he replies. He stands and walks to his bedroom, returning shortly after with a silver hairbrush, an Uchiwa expertly imprinted on the front of it alongside what she thinks are carnations. “Here,” he says, holding it out to her with a distant expression.

She meets his eyes, and finds nothing but resignation in his. Her lips pressed into a thin line, she accepts the gift, fingers clasping the cool metal. “You are far too kind,” she says.

“It was my mother’s. I just felt like you should have it,” he says, reclaiming his seat and folding his hands in his lap. She frowns. 

“Why the sudden inclination to give it to me?” she asks.

“Oh, well -” he studies her for a moment then says, “I’m sure you’ve been talking with Izuna, and that’s why you’re asking, right?” 

She puts on her best poker face, but he’s clearly unconvinced. She sighs and offers him a sheepish smile, still holding on tightly to the brush. “You caught me. He seems...concerned.”

“I told him, and I’ll tell you too,” Madara says, “I’m just downsizing. This house is too big for just me, it seems like such a waste. So I’m tricking my unsuspecting friends and relatives into helping me get rid of all this stuff.” The smile he flashes her doesn’t meet his eyes.

He seems so...tired. She swallows thickly. “I see,” she manages. “Well, I...appreciate the gift, then. Thank you Madara.” She smiles in return, trying not to show her worry. She doesn’t want him catching on, for now. 

“Of course,” he says, picking his teacup up again and taking a sip. 

“Would you like to visit the botanical gardens with me next week?” she asks, noting the way he tenses up.

“I’m going to be quite busy next week,” he says vaguely, and she crosses her arms.

“Too busy for your best friend?” she asks, and he refuses to meet her eyes now.

“I’m afraid so,” he murmurs, shoulders hunched as if he’s closing in on himself. Something shifts in his chakra, flittering on the edges but not making itself entirely known. 

“What are you doing?” she asks, but Madara’s expression is closed off.

“I think I’m going to retire for the evening, Mito,” he says, standing and listlessly setting his cup back down. “I will see you later. Thank you for the visit.” He goes to his bedroom without another word, the door slamming with a decisive ‘thud.’

Mito holds onto the brush even tighter, like it could vanish like her friend had if she loosened her fingers, and leaves his house with little ceremony.

* * *

There is a knock on his door, and Hashirama groans as he rubs his sleepy eyes. Who could possibly be here at this time at night? How annoying. Maybe if he just ignores it and go back to sleep they’ll come back at a more reasonable time. 

“HASHIRAMA!” Madara calls, banging on the door with more urgency this time. The Senju scrambles out of bed, not bothering to throw on a robe as he runs to the front door and swings it open, chest heaving. Sure, he probably looks like a frazzled mess, but he doesn’t want to keep his dearest friend waiting - especially if it’s an _emergency,_ kami forbid.

“Madara, what’s wrong?!” he asks, eyes wide. Madara doesn’t answer for now, instead thrusting a fluffy monstrosity into the other man’s arms. 

“Take Uzume,” the Uchiha says, crossing his own arms and glaring at the ground.

“What?” Hashirama squawks, adjusting his hold on the cat he finds himself in possession of to make her more comfortable.

Madara appears to be fine, but Hashirama can’t help but scan him for injuries. This is way too sudden - alarm bells are going off in his head and he knows there’s a reason, he just can’t quite put a finger on it. Something is _definitely_ wrong.

“I’m moving,” Madara replies, shrugging. “And I don’t want her to be alone during the process. So, you take her. She’s a lovely cat, I assure you, and she shouldn’t give you any trouble.”

“Madara, I know how much you love this cat,” Hashirama says, brows furrowed. If it were really just a simple move, surely Madara would just keep Uzume at Izuna’s, where he was likely to stay in the meantime - not bring her _here._ Right?

“Enough to let her go,” the Uchiha says cryptically, turning his back to his friend and staring at the ground. “Just take care of her, alright?”

“Of course I will, but I still don’t understand what this is about,” the Senju says, scratching behind the cat’s ear upon her insistence. He takes a step forward, hoping his friend will turn around again. “You know you can talk to me, right? I’m here for you, Madara. I’m starting to get worried…” he trails off as Madara turns his head. Their eyes lock and Hashirama’s heart sinks as he sees the resignation there. 

For the briefest moment, it looks like Madara might waver, but before Hashirama can say anything else, he’s gone.


	7. Mangekyou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mito finally decides to take matters into her own hands and investigate Madara's house. 
> 
> She doesn't exactly like what she finds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone I'm sorry this took SOOOOOO long to put out! Gosh...it's been....way too long. Yeah, I'll just say that.
> 
> On the bright side, I think I'm back into the swing of writing this thing, and we're finally reaching the climax! Woo!
> 
> Thank you for being patient with me and for reading. All the comments and kudos I get really warm my heart.

“Tobirama, I need help,” Hashirama bemoans, shoulders hunched over his desk in the Hokage office. His younger brother is sitting in the seat across from him and does not appear to be in the mood for this today.

“...With what?” Tobirama asks after several moments of silence. He closes his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Let me guess…” he starts, but Hashirama cuts him off.

“Have you seen Madara?” 

“No,” Tobirama replies flatly.

“Can you sense him?”

“No.”

“Has Izuna seen him?”

“I haven’t seen Izuna in a few days,” Tobirama replies icily, glaring at the floor. “You told me you needed to see me for an  _ emergency. _ This hardly qualifies.”

“What?” Hashirama’s brow furrows and he tilts his head. “Aren’t you  _ engaged _ ? I know he didn’t go off on a mission, so what’s wrong?”

Tobirama sighs, rubbing his temples. He should have known better than to say anything about it. “Nothing is wrong,” he says tersely. “He’s just...been busy.”

His elder brother frowns. “You’re not as good at lying as you think you are,” he says. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so focused on my own problems…” he trails off, running a hand through his hair. “Did you get into a fight?”

Tobirama reluctantly meets Hashirama’s eyes, seeing the guilt brimming in them. His shoulders slump and he relents, sinking back into his chair. “Yes,” he says.

“That bad?”

“...Yeah.”

Hashirama rubs his chin. “Well, have you tried talking it out?”

“He hasn’t really wanted to talk,” Tobirama says, crossing his arms. “Something about me still being a prejudiced asshole towards his clan, or something. I don’t know.”

He’s given a withered look. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing major!” the younger man sputters, glaring at the ground again. “Just, you know...something about Madara’s chakra and the dark edge to it and how I didn’t think it was anything unusual because of the...evil Uchiha thing…” he trails off, groaning. “I know it was stupid.”

“I mean, yeah, it was stupid, but not the  _ worst  _ thing you could have said,” Hashirama attempts, but it falls flat. He snorts and shakes his head. “Okay, nevermind that. That’s pretty bad, Tobi.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Hashirama worries his lip, considering his options. He desperately wants to ask what Tobirama means about Madara’s chakra, but switching gears again would probably only prove his brother’s point (albeit an unsaid point, but  _ still.)  _ “Sorry,” he says, smile sheepish. “Would you like comfort or help?”

“I think help,” Tobirama says after a minute or so of silence. “I don’t know how to apologize.”

“Have you tried approaching him at  _ all _ ?”

More silence. Then, a quiet “no.”

“I figured,” Hashirama says. “Maybe that would be a good idea, yeah?” 

Tobirama reluctantly nods. 

“And it might be a good idea to go with some sort of peace offering. Not to buy his affection back, but I’ve found that sometimes works when I’m fighting with Madara. Last time we got into an argument I grew him a bonsai tree and I’m pretty sure he’s kept it.” Hashirama smiles. “They’re not the same person, but they  _ are  _ brothers. There’s a lot of similarities.”

“I’d be willing to bet Madara still has that. He hasn’t brought it to Izuna at least,” Tobirama says, rubbing his chin. “I’m not sure what to give to Izuna though.”

“What does he like?” 

“He likes books,” Tobirama says.

“So, buy him a book!”

“He’s already got so many, though…”

Hashirama gives him a withered look. “Just buy him a book, Tobi, and  _ apologize.  _ Apologize like you mean it, and make sure he knows you  _ don’t  _ think his clan is evil. I can’t really help otherwise - you know him a lot better than I do.”

His brother stands, clasping his hands together. “Thank you,” he says. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good luck, little brother. I think you’re going to need it.”

Tobirama shoots him a glare before he leaves the office, but Hashirama is unfazed. Sometimes a little bit of tough love is warranted, after all - and it seemed fair enough, here.

* * *

_ Stick to the plan, stick to the plan, stick to the plan…. _

Madara paces around the clearing in the woods he’d found, far from Zetsu’s cave and the village. Can’t have anyone  _ interfering  _ with this stage, after all. Someone might convince him  _ not  _ to do this.

Sure, he had kind of already strayed from his original plan (so much for not leaving Konoha at all), but he’s always been the type to roll with the punches anyway. Staying there had proven far too difficult. He’d almost  _ given in  _ when Hashirama offered a metaphorical hand. Definitely can’t have that. 

Then there was his little brother. Facing Izuna had also gotten hard. He is far too perceptive for his own good at times. He’d started asking so many questions that Madara had really not wanted to answer. And Mito…

Safe to say his loved ones are getting  _ suspicious.  _ How annoying. Can’t a man wallow in misery in  _ peace?  _

Madara supposes he’s thankful for it - it’s flattering, knowing that they care about him enough to worry, because no one recognizing his odd behavior at all might have been spirit-crushing enough to give him no hesitation.

That being said, he couldn’t have stayed. It’s for the best, really...he’s distancing himself for both his own benefit and theirs. Perhaps it will help mitigate the sense of loss, if he’s already out of their reach. 

He reaches up to wipe blood from his cheek. He stares at some of the blood that drips from his fingers with his remaining eye, a sick smile spreading across his lips.

It’s been so  _ long  _ since he’s felt alive like this.

_ It will be a fight to remember, Hashirama. _

* * *

Mito crosses her arms, staring at Madara’s door with contempt. 

Normally, she would be opposed to breaking into a friend’s house, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and he certainly hasn’t answered her several insistent knocks. 

She lifts one leg, concentrating chakra into her foot, and kicks as hard as she can. It doesn’t collapse entirely, but as she lowers her leg, she leaves a sizable hole in her wake. Enough to reach one hand into, at least. She grips the doorknob, fumbling to find the lock, and -

“Shit,” she mutters, withdrawing her hand and twisting the knob from the outside, entering with ease. It hadn’t been locked in the first place. She rolls her eyes, deciding that’s a problem for another day ( _ when  _ he returns, she tells herself, not if). She walks inside, shutting the door behind her, and surveys the living room.

It looks the same as when he gave her that hairbrush, really, though most of the pillows have been haphazardly tossed on the couches rather than the usual careful arrangement. Idly, she moves to position them more neatly, wondering if perhaps she is overreacting. Maybe Madara just needs some alone time, and that’s why he up and vanished.

As if he hadn’t isolated himself for far too long already. No...not an overreaction, she decides, drifting her way to the kitchen. 

Mito’s brows furrow as she rifles through the cabinet, finding a concerning lack of food. If he planned to return, he’d certainly have to go shopping soon...she worries her lip. Madara hardly purchases food in excess to begin with (for fear of being wasteful, she knows), but this is different. 

There are dishes in the sink - a teapot, and several cups. No plates, or silverware, other than a sugar spoon. 

She’s never known him to leave a chore like that unfinished.

She frowns, leaving the kitchen to enter the thin hallway that leads to his bedroom and washroom. She opts for the bedroom (she’d like to allow him to retain at least a small sense of privacy, after all), pushing open the slightly ajar door to enter.

“Oh dear,” she breathes, taking in the scene.

It looks like a hurricane passed through. Papers strewn everywhere, bed unmade, and a bloody kunai resting on the desk. There is more blood pooled around it, and Mito covers her mouth with one hand, unsure what to do. She notices a trail of blood going towards the open window, and runs a hand through her hair.

To say this is  _ bad  _ is probably an understatement. She’s tempted to take the kunai, but a familiar-sounding scream from elsewhere in the Uchiha compound distracts her.

* * *

Izuna clutches onto the sealing scroll left to him by his brother, trying to calm himself down.

So, maybe the scream hadn’t been the best move (as far as NOT alerting every other member of the Uchiha clan), but he really couldn’t help it after finding a sealing scroll with an  _ eye  _ in it left on his desk alongside a lengthy note from his brother.

His hands tremble as he sets the scroll down, his breaths coming out in short bursts.  _ Okay, try not to panic, try not to panic- _

Yeah, too late for that. He sinks to the floor, one hand wrapped around the arm of his desk chair until his knuckles turn white. He’s never been the best in crisis situations and he knows he should just go searching for Madara instead of being  _ weak  _ like this but where does he even start-

“Izuna?” 

He knows that voice. 

“Mito,” he manages, his own red eyes meeting her soft brown. He doesn’t register what she says next, only noticing her arms around him, and the soothing fingers in his hair.

His eyes  _ hurt.  _ His cheeks are wet with something hot, hotter than tears- 

“Izuna, can you hear me? Just nod if you can hear me.”

He nods, grip on his chair slackening, lowering his hand and burying his face in the warm shoulder in front of him. He focuses on her voice, soft and reassuring though the words hardly have meaning.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” she soothes. “I’ve got you. Tell me what you need now.”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles into her shoulder. “I think I got blood on your kimono, I’m sorry-”

“It can be replaced,” Mito says, stroking his hair. “Keep breathing, Izuna. I’m here, I’m not going to leave okay?”

“Thank you,” Izuna says after several minutes, at last lifting his head and taking a few deep breaths. The panic settled into his chest has not completely dissipated, but at least his heart isn’t racing and his thoughts aren’t as jumbled anymore. He wipes some blood from his cheeks, trying to turn off his sharingan and cursing under his breath when he finds himself unable. He sits back, untying his hair in an attempt to tidy it, and Mito remains quiet, allowing him a moment to collect himself.

The peaceful moment does not last long, however, as Tobirama Senju barrels through the door into the room, eyes wide and chest heaving. “Izuna, what happened?!”

“Tobirama, perhaps you shouldn’t be here-” Mito attempts to say, not wanting the Uchiha to panic again, but she cuts herself off. Sure, the timing isn’t  _ fantastic,  _ but they do need to work through their issues. The atmosphere hasn’t really changed in the room, at least, so she takes it as a good sign.

“I’m fine,” Izuna mutters, allowing Tobirama to kneel in front of him. “Tobi, I’m fine, really.”

Tobirama frowns, reaching forward to cup Izuna’s cheek. He carefully wipes some residual blood from around his eyes, inspecting them. “Your mangekyou,” he says. “That explains why your eyes hurt so badly…”

“Oh,” the Uchiha breathes. “I guess...that makes sense, yes.”

Delicately, Mito picks up the sealing scroll left on the desk. “I believe I know the cause,” she says. “Madara’s eye...was left here, for Izuna to discover.”

“What?” Tobirama’s nose scrunches up in confusion. “In that? Why...surely he knew that would be traumatic enough to trigger something like this..."

“Yes,” she confirms, setting it down once again. "Perhaps, in some way, that was part of the intent. If my thinking is correct, Madara intends for Izuna to become clan head, and having that power unlocked will be important. I just...don't know exactly what he's up to now..." she trails off, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“We need to alert Hashirama if Madara intends to betray the village-”

Tobirama is cut off with a  _ smack  _ as Izuna slaps him, eyes shining red as he stands. “Why the  _ fuck  _ would he leave me his eye if he intended to hurt anyone?” he seethes. “Do you have any idea the disadvantage he’s put himself at? He’s already been reckless with his use of his own mangekyou, he can hardly see!” 

The Senju rubs his stinging cheek, shoulders sunken with shame. He can admit he deserved that one, and stays kneeling on the ground, thoroughly mollified. “I apologize,” he says. “Sometimes I speak without thought, and you are right. We should still tell Hashirama, though…”

“Tell him  _ what-”  _ the Uchiha is about to start shouting, but Mito interrupts him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He calms a bit, crossing his arms but quieting.

“He needs to know that Madara is missing, at least. Hashirama has the best chance of stopping him from...whatever his plan is,” she says. “They  _ are  _ soulmates, even if Hashirama doesn’t realize.”

“He’s worried about Madara already,” Tobirama says. “And Izuna, as much as I respect your brother, he is...a handful. To put it nicely.”

Izuna bristles, ready to snap again, but he closes his eyes and takes a breath. Being angry isn’t going to help anyone, he knows. “I know,” he says. “I just don’t understand - have we not been there for him? I tell him he can tell me anything, I don’t know what I did wrong…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Tobirama says, finally rising to his feet and taking Izuna’s hands in his own. He gives them a comforting squeeze, not minding the blood staining both of them at this point.

“The dark aura you felt, Tobirama - did you feel it came from something external?” Mito asks. “When I felt it, it seemed like it was...on the edges of Madara’s chakra, and evaded my attempts to probe further.”

“I didn’t examine it closely,” he admits. “But from the cursory glance I took, I would agree with your assessment.”

Izuna’s brow furrows. “...something external…” he says, worrying his lip. “An unknown entity...this reminds me of a story I heard as a child, but now I can’t remember…” he winces. “Mito, can you go tell Hashirama that Madara is gone? I...need a moment. I can’t seem to turn off my sharingan.”

She nods. “Of course,” she says. "Do come get me if you need me." She offers Tobirama a wave before gliding out of the room, leaving the two men alone.

“How are you doing?” Tobirama asks, gently steering Izuna to the bed to allow him to sit more comfortably. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass, I was going to buy you a present to make it up to you somehow but then I felt how much pain you were in and-”

“I’m okay, Tobi,” Izuna assures, offering him a weak smile. “I forgive you. Sorry for uh...yelling at you. And slapping you. That wasn’t...very good soulmate behavior either.” He averts his eyes, blinking them rapidly in an attempt to shut the sharingan off. "Definitely not cool of me."

“Well, I forgive you too then,” he says, joining Izuna on the bed and wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist. Izuna welcomes the comforting touch, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on Tobirama’s shoulder. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, he missed his idiot Senju.

“Thanks for coming,” he whispers. “I’m so scared he won’t come back. What if he doesn’t come back? I’m not ready to lose another brother, I’m not ready to become clan head…”

“He’ll come back. You know Hashirama won’t let him go that easy.” Tobirama threads his fingers through Izuna’s still-loose hair, knowing his fiance enjoys the feeling. “And...even if he doesn’t...I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” he says. “You won’t be alone. I promise.”

Izuna doesn’t reply, instead just embracing Tobirama tightly, hanging on for dear life. 


	8. Undeserving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hashirama goes to confront Madara.
> 
> Things...quickly go wrong.
> 
> (Then kinda right.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This took longer than intended again but hey...at least it wasn't as long as the last wait, if that counts for anything.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3

“Hashirama-sama.”

Said Hokage looks up from the stack of paperwork on his desk, meeting the gaze of a visibly perturbed Mito Uzumaki. “Ah, Mito-san! What can I help you with?”

“Madara has gone missing,” she says. The smile on Hashirama’s face quickly fades.

“What?” he says, blinking. “What do you mean, missing?”

He had just seen Madara the other night, though-

_ When Madara gave him his cat, then practically ran away from him -  _

A pit settles into his stomach, and he stands up from his chair. “How do we know he’s missing?” he asks, effort required to keep his voice steady. 

She averts her gaze, clasping her hands together. “Izuna...found a sealing scroll on his desk,” she says, but is interrupted by Hashirama saying,

“What does that have to do with Madara-”

“It contained one of Madara’s eyes,” she finishes, “alongside a note from Madara naming Izuna as the new clan head.” Her voice is quiet, shaky. 

Hashirama looks at her with a stricken expression, saying nothing else before leaving the room, running out of the tower.

* * *

“I’ve been waiting for you, Hashirama,” Madara says, robes fluttering in the wind and hair flowing behind him. Thunder rumbles overhead, and he stands up taller, holding his famed gunbai as he watches the Senju from across the valley.

“Madara, what is this about?” Hashirama asks, taking a step forward into the shallow water between them. He sees the blood staining Madara’s cheek and the pang in his heart drives him to move closer still.

“You really don’t understand?” the Uchiha scoffs, lips curling into an unnatural sneer. “This peace...it is a farce,” he says. “I’m going to burn Konohagakure to the ground, and from its ashes, create a better village. I will destroy everything and everyone in my path!” He throws his head back and laughs, shoulders shaking. If it is borderline hysterical laughter, Hashirama does not notice.

Instead, his blood runs cold at the threat.

_ No, surely Madara can’t be serious, he wouldn’t- _

**_You have to stop him, no matter the cost._ **

“But why, Madara?” the Senju searches his friend’s face for any sign of him relenting. This wasn’t what he was expecting. He’d been expecting - expecting…  
  
He doesn’t know if he should be glad that this isn’t a suicide attempt, or if this is worse. Madara’s laughter rings in his ears. 

**_Kill him if you have to. It’s the only way to ensure the safety of the village._ **

“Why does it matter?” Madara counters, raising his gunbai. Hot wisps of chakra billow off of him as another boom of thunder rolls through the sky. The ribs of Susano’o form around his torso and Hashirama jumps backwards just in time to avoid a crushing blue fist. “All that matters is that I am your enemy, and this will be our greatest battle yet!” 

“No, Madara, we aren’t enemies!” Hashirama protests, mokuton manifesting to harmlessly slap away the yasaka beads Madara has hurled at him. “Please just come home! I know - I know something else is going on here!” he says. “You’ve been planning this for awhile, haven’t you?”

Madara falters, the form of Susano’o flickering around him. “Of course, idiotic Senju, how could I seek to destroy the village without planning-”

“So in your plans, why didn’t you realize that I would find out about the note you left for Izuna?” Hashirama demands, and he watches his friend’s remaining eye widen. “I thought you were planning on  _ hurting yourself _ , it’s why I rushed out here.”

“Tch…” Susano’o dissipates, and Madara steps backwards as the rain finally begins to fall. “That’s irrelevant. I merely did not want to worry him. I would never do something like that, you moron! Me, hurt myself?”

“That’s why you left him one of your  _ eyes? _ ” Hashirama takes a step forward, not letting Madara brush him off that easily. “That was hurting yourself. Come on...just come home. I’m really worried about you, Madara.” 

“No.” Madara tightens his hold on his gunbai, raising his other hand to his lips. His fingers flash the hand signs before Hashirama gets close enough to encircle the other man with mokuton, and the Senju leaps out of the way of the grand fireball. “Come on, Hashirama, enough of this charade. Fight me! Protect your precious village if you don’t want it destroyed. I’m not planning on hurting myself, only you.”

Hashirama grits his teeth, hands balling into fists. “Why are you pushing me to this extreme?” he says. “I don’t want to hurt you, Madara, but I will ensure the safety of Konoha.”

Madara’s expression shifts, and his eyes narrow. “You don’t want to hurt me?” he says, voice quiet. His chakra flares, and his lip curls into a mirthless smile. “What a joke,” he hisses. “Claim that all you want, but you know how badly you’ve hurt me.”

“What?” The Senju blocks a swing from Madara’s gunbai easily with his mokuton, vines curling around both of their feet as mist rises from the water they’re standing in, the rain intensifying around them. 

“Nevermind,” Madara shakes his head, raindrops falling down his face (or are those tears? Hashirama can’t tell, it’s getting harder and harder to see). “I don’t expect you to care. Why won’t you just kill me?” he says, and Hashirama frowns.

“What-”

“Can’t you see? I’m a danger!” the Uchiha turns away, his back to Hashirama now despite the circumstances. He can’t bear to look at his soulmate, to see the hurt and confusion in the other man’s eyes. “I could hurt you. I  _ will _ hurt you.”

“Madara, I know you,” Hashirama says, shaking his head and stepping closer. “You wouldn’t hurt me. You’re a good man.”

“I’m not,” Madara hisses, looking over his shoulder to glare at the Senju. “I’m not a good man. Everyone else knows it. Knows that I’m evil, that I don’t deserve to be at your side…” he returns his gaze to the ground, shoulders trembling. “You said it yourself, don’t you remember? I’m mean...I’m cruel, I’m wicked…” he can’t help a choked laugh. “If you leave me standing, I’ll turn Konoha to ash. It’s the kind of person I am...I bring about nothing but destruction.” 

“Madara…” Hashirama is stricken, one hand on the hilt of his sword. He knows it’s not true, knows something is wrong, something else is going on here, but-

**_Kill him. Now. Before he gets the chance to put up a fight. It’ll be easier this way._ **

No, he could never betray Madara’s trust like that! But that nagging little voice in his head has been so insistent this entire time, it’s driving him mad. **_Kill him. Kill Madara now. Before he can hurt anyone_** **_else. Before the Uchiha pose a threat again-_**

The thought is irrational. Ridiculous. The Uchiha have been nothing but good for Konoha, eager for peace and delighted by it! And Madara, Madara hasn’t hurt anyone…

Still, the Senju draws his sword.

“You know I’m right,” Madara’s voice is quiet, almost contemplative as he watches the rain hitting the water surrounding them. He looks much smaller, with his hair wet, not adding the usual few inches to his height. His shoulders are hunched, as if he’s caving in on himself. “I don’t deserve to be in the light. You’re the sun, Hashirama...I don’t belong here, with you.”

The sun? Hashirama blinks, warmth flooding his cheeks. What does Madara mean? The familiar feeling of  _ affection  _ towards his dearest friend bubbles in his chest, but-

**_Now. Kill him now. It’s your only choice._ **

He has to...right?

* * *

Rain clouds his vision. 

It’s so cold. He hadn’t noticed that before.

Hashirama feels pain bloom in his own stomach as he runs his sword through his best friend’s back, and has to look down. Has Madara somehow returned the favor? How? He had been so lost in thought, and besides, you can’t stab really someone with a gunbai...

His clothing is unmarred. No wounds, no blood. He is practically untouched.

He feels a familiar prick of pain behind his eye and everything clicks into place. 

Sharingan.

_ Oh. _

_ OH. _

“No,” he is all he can manage, and Madara offers a weak cough. It sounds wet, and Hashirama knows there is likely blood staining the other man’s chin.

“I never thought...you would do it from behind,” the Uchiha says, unsteady on his feet. They remain frozen there for a moment until he unceremoniously falls forward into the mud, leaving Hashirama’s sword stained with blood as he numbly holds it up.

“Madara!” the Senju snaps out of it and tosses his sword aside, dropping to his knees beside his  _ soulmate  _ \- his  **soulmate** that he has just mortally wounded, that he’s unintentionally insulted for months, for years-

No time for that now, though tears prick at Hashirama’s eyes at the thoughts. Madara must have thought he rejected him. With shaky hands, he turns the other man onto his back, trying to assess the damage. He gently wipes some of the mud off of Madara’s face, lower lip quivering. “Oh, Madara, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, but it’s clear the Uchiha isn’t angry with him.  _ Typical, sappy, ridiculous Uchiha. _

“Hashirama,” Madara replies, his eye half-lidded, lips stretched into a weak smile. “...Sorry…I know you have to feel the pain too,” he says, and there is no malice in his voice. “It’ll stop soon…” he coughs up another mouthful of blood, and allows his eye to shut. “I can’t hurt you anymore, this way.”

Hashirama runs his fingers through Madara’s hair, smoothing it away from his empty eye socket to keep mud out of it. He uses his other hand to focus iryojutsu on the stab wound. “How long have you known about our connection?” He asks, tone desperate.  _ How long did you think I rejected you?  _ goes unsaid. The other voice is gone, leaving him alone to his anguish. 

“Since you twisted your ankle as a kid and didn’t get it healed,” the Uchiha says, trying to push Hashirama’s hand away. “Stop, I don’t want to be saved-”

Hashirama frowns, strengthening the jutsu in retaliation. “So that  _ was _ your intention,” he murmurs, chewing his lip. “I should’ve seen sooner...all of it sooner, really, but…I knew something was wrong, especially when you brought me your cat. I’m saving you, so hush. We’ll go home once you’re stable.”

“I don’t deserve to be in the village,” Madara hisses, trying to scramble away but swiftly finding himself held in the arms of a wood clone. He squirms in its grip, but upon meeting the sad eyes of his soulmate, he gives in, shoulders slumped. He never could resist Hashirama. “I don’t understand-”

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a rotten friend,” Hashirama finishes healing the stab wound, at least as much as he is able to in the moment, and dismisses the bunshin. He pulls Madara into a tight hug, using it as leverage to hoist him up into his arms. “And awful soulmate. I didn’t even know - I should’ve known. It was so obvious,” he says, and Madara stares up at him, bug-eyed.

“You...didn’t know?” He has stopped fighting the Senju’s hold, allowing himself to be swathed in warming, comforting chakra as he’s carried back to the village. “You weren’t just...rejecting me?”

“No, Madara! I would never...I would never have rejected you, or have been so cruel about it. Kami, now I understand why you were so upset about Mito…” Hashirama grimaces. “You should have told me.”

Madara averts his eyes, puffing his cheeks out. He might be bloody, sore, soggy, and muddy, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be petulant. “I thought it was so obvious I didn’t need to tell you,” he grumbles, though he rests his head on Hashirama’s chest. “We both have things to apologize for, I suppose.”

“You’re right,” the other man admits, chewing his lip again. “I’m sorry-”

“Just forget it for now. I’m tired,” the Uchiha interrupts, closing his eye again. The physical wound may have been healed, but he's had...a rough day, to put it lightly. He can't keep himself awake much longer.  “Izu ‘s gonna kill me,” he mumbles, snuggling up to Hashirama’s warmth. "I've caused a lot of trouble." 

“You can sleep, Madara,” Hashirama says, pushing out more soothing chakra. “It’s going to be okay. I’ve got you.” And it’s true. 

They can deal with the strange voice, the hurt, and the broken trust later. For now, Hashirama just wants to get Madara home safely, and that’s what he does as the Uchiha dozes off in his hold.


End file.
